


Exsanguinated

by walkwithursus



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blood Drinking, Consensual, Devotion, Exhibitionism, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Trust, Vampire Bites, acts of service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus
Summary: “Guillermo, come over here and put your neck in my mouth.”
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 574





	Exsanguinated

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler for Season 2 Episode 5, which hasn't actually aired yet. This line from the trailer kept pinging around in my head, thus.. this fic.

“Guillermo, come over here and put your neck in my mouth.” 

The order came from the next seat away, where Nandor was sprawled with his head lolled back and his eyes glazed over. Guillermo had been in a sort of waking sleep until that moment, withering away in the fancy room with the rest of the household as Colin Robinson drained the last of their energy, but at the sound of Nandor’s voice his brain attempted to reboot itself and he dutifully rose into a sitting position.

A flush crept up Guillermo’s neck as his master's words fully sunk in. Nandor had never fed on him in front of anyone before. As far as Guillermo knew, Nandor hadn’t wanted to publicize the fact that he did so, thereby opening Guillermo up as a potential target for other vampires. Automatically, Guillermo's eyes sought out Nadja and Laszlo on the loveseat across from them, equally weak and just as starving. That Nandor was willing to forgo such a rule now was a testament to just how thirsty he truly was, and Guillermo found himself acquiescing to the order despite his better judgement. 

“How is that fair, Nandor?” Nadja whined, as Guillermo gathered his limbs under him and wobbled over to Nandor’s seat. 

Nandor’s arms were waiting to encircle him, strong and solid as he climbed into the vampire’s lap. With his knees on either side of Nandor’s thighs, Guillermo lay on top of him until his neck was just within reach of his master’s mouth.

“Guillermo is _my_ familiar, Nadja,” Nandor reminded her shortly, brushing a hand through Guillermo’s curls to clear a patch on his neck. 

Someone hissed from behind him, a bitter, reproachful sound. Nandor’s returning hiss sounded like a firecracker beside Guillermo’s ear, fierce and possessive as he crushed his familiar tighter against his body. Guillermo was too exhausted to feel afraid, though he doubted either Nadja or Laszlo would challenge Nandor over his right to feed on his own familiar.

The hissing died down to a sullen, throaty snarl. With an air of smug satisfaction, Nandor popped the button at Guillermo’s collar and parted the fabric, exposing the warm, soft nape of his neck. An intimate fingertip sought and found his pulse in a feathery caress, and Guillermo let a small moan escape.

“It’s alright, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured, his lips a whisper against his familiar’s throat. “I won’t take too much.” 

Guillermo managed a nod. His blood would have very little nutritional value at this point, but it would provide his master something at the very least. Perhaps even enough to deal with Colin Robinson before he drained them all past the point of no return.

“I’m ready, Master,” Guillermo replied, his stomach clenching in anticipation.

Nandor’s fangs penetrated his neck in the same well-worn spot they always did, sliding in with practiced ease. Guillermo exhaled a soft moan and buried his face in Nandor’s broad shoulder. He was accustomed to the sensation of being fed on by now, the dull pleasure-pain that throbbed throughout his entire body, though the feeling of the other vampires' eyes on his back was entirely new, and made his skin prickle with equal parts excitement and shame.

For once, Nandor was slow to feed, allowing the pulse of blood to flow into his mouth rather than sucking it deep from his veins. Guillermo could feel Nandor’s fingers flexing into the soft flesh of his waist, and it occurred to him through the haze that his master was exercising a great deal of restraint.

After a few minutes Nandor jerked back, his chest heaving in deep pants as he reigned his bloodlust in. The sensation of teeth sliding from the puncture wounds was a sharp sting, but Nandor’s tongue quickly soothed it, lapping the errant trickles of blood until the wound had clotted. 

Guillermo sagged against his master’s chest. His body was one deep ache, his thoughts mushy and incoherent. The most he could do was bury his face in Nandor’s collar, filling his nostrils with the scent of mothballs and fragrant oils as he teetered on the edge of consciousness.

“Alright, enough of this. Get off me,” Nandor ordered, a newfound strength to his tone. The callousness of it had no effect on Guillermo, who was by now far too used to his master's public indifference to take offense.

“I don’t think I can stand, Master,” Guillermo confessed woozily, breathing deeply through his nose. He tried to wiggle his toes in his shoes and found that he couldn’t feel them, much less use them to stand. 

Nandor snorted irritably beside his ear but made no move to dislodge him. Guillermo wondered if Nandor were to throw him from his lap if it would incite a feeding frenzy, and if that were the only reason Nandor was continuing to hold him now. The thought was as discomforting as it was reassuring. 

“Get him out of here,” Laszlo said disdainfully, speaking up for the first time in minutes.

“Yes, take your little blood bag and stash him away somewhere before I snatch him up,” Nadja seconded. 

“Okay, okay.” There was movement beneath him, and Guillermo felt as though he had been lifted into the air like a rag doll. “We are leaving.” 

Laszlo's scathing voice followed them out of the room. "Good. Bloody show-off." 

Guillermo wanted to ask where they were going, but he couldn’t feel his tongue. Eventually he felt his body shifted into what felt like a horizontal position, and he assumed Nandor had placed him on his bed. When he opened his eyes he expected to see the descending staircase of his closet bedroom, but was instead met with a regular, slightly water-stained ceiling. 

“Where…?” 

“I put you in my coffin,” Nandor answered, his pale face swimming in Guillermo’s vision. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended with those lousy bloodhounds sniffling about.”

“Oh.” The thought of Nandor taking such a precaution to protect him was quite comforting. Guillermo blinked, and when he reopened his eyes Nandor’s face was gone. “Master?”

“I’m here, Guillermo,” Nandor replied from out of sight, picking up Guillermo’s hand and squeezing. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to go and take care of Colin Robinson.” 

“Okay."

“You just rest now.”

“Okay," Guillermo breathed, relaxing into the fur-lined coffin. He was just about to drift off when he heard Nandor's voice again, weaving into his dreams.

“Thank you for helping me tonight. I tried not to take too much, but just in case, I’ll be sure to bring you back some alligator-ade for later.”

"Thank you, Master," Guillermo replied. He had not the wherewithal to correct Nandor on the correct pronunciation of the sport's drink, but at the end of the day, it was the thought that counted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments greatly appreciated.


End file.
